Crabby
by Maidenhair
Summary: What if Christine was a crab and hated everyone, and everything?


**Crabby** Disclaimer: I do not own POTO or Dr. Strangeglove (sp?) Day 1 

Today I got my diary. I hate it. It was too expensive. The sales man was too cheery also. I hate cheery people. I hate people. I sometimes wish that the world would explode so that I could be left in peace. I had a dream last night that I was riding a missile down to the earth and my name was Dr. Strangeglove. I don't like dreams.

Day 2 

I needed a job, so I got sent to the Opera by the employment agency. I mean it! My life sucks! Of all the jobs I had to get, Opera! Gosh! And of all the opera houses! Paris? I mean, please! So I went into the opera. It was fancy. I hate it. Then I had an audition. I hate auditions. I sang like the most totally beautiful thing in the world, and all I got was a part in the chorus! Gosh! I hate the chorus! I hate opera anyway! I can't stand it here!

Day 3 

OMG! As if my life could get any worse! There's this dork ballet girl and she like thinks she's my best friend. She follows me everywhere, and it's just talk, talk, talk! I can't even get a word in! I hate her! Her name is Meg. Hate that name!

Day 4 

Oh, boy! Life is full of unexpected crud! I met the Diva. She's a snob. I hate her!

Day 5 

Today sucks! I was TRYING to get a moments peace when guess what happens? A stupid, disembodied voice comes singing through the walls. Like, not cool! So I say, "The person at extension 666 that's my room number is not available."

The voice stops singing. I bet he's just like, "Hey, I thought I was doin' real sweet!" _Whatever!_

So he says, "Christine?" That's my name. I hate it! I hate this guy worse, though. He's got one of those overly pretty voices. I can just imagine him standing behind a trap door; all girly and wussy. Bet he's got Bambi eyes and curls to boot. I hate pretty-boys!

"What do you want!" I demand.

"My dear, Christine..." he begins.

"Uh, like I don't even KNOW you!"

He just continues like I'm not even there! "Christine, I have been watching you for several days now. I must say that I greatly admire you. You are very attractive, polite, and charming, yet full of spunk and nerve."

I was like _so_ not listening! I was opening doors and tapping walls looking for the invisible-homeboy. I had my cudgel. What a sucker!

"I have also heard you sing." He was saying.

"Yeah?" I asked. _So?_

"You have talent." He said.

DUH!

"Yet you need training..." He left the word training hanging in the air. I knew what that implied. He was offering his services. Like, NO WAY JOSÉ!

"Oh, and I guess you think you're the guy to do it?" I asked.

"Well..."

"No. I have a GREAT punk-rock voice. There is like not a chance I'm gonna change it!" I snapped.

"My dear, I am simply wishing to help you fulfill your carrier as Opera Diva." He said in his sick-sweet voice.

The guy wasn't listening.

"Look, I don't need no homeboy!" I said.

"Don't need ANY homeboy." He corrected.

_That's it_. I though. _I'm gonna kill him!_

"Come, my dear. Paris will worship you!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah, sure," I said sarcastically.

"Ah! You accept?" he asked. He was happy. What a chump!

"Whatever." I said, thinking I could have some fun before I ditched him. (Or killed him.)

So he gets into all this music theory. I'm, like, thinking, this is so first grade. I sang everything as badly as I could until the disembodied nerd was about to burst a blood vessel. Then I sang perfectly. It was driving him nuts, I could tell.

Then he gets into this LOOOOOONG speech about love, music and eternal glory –ya know, that sort of thing. I pretended that I had left the room, so that when he was done he kept asking, "Christine? Christine? Are you there? Are you well?" and wot not.

I had to bury my face in the pillows to keep from laughing. When he's finally at the end of his rope and practically sobbing I yawned real big.

"Woopsie, must have dozed off." I said in my annoying baby-girl voice. I could almost feel his frustration. It was great. What a looser!

**Ok, that's all. Review now. Ta-ta.**


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